Optique
by Myaru
Summary: Sess/Kag pairing. Kagome awakens at the Western Estate after a disastrous battle that leaves her friends out of commission, and she is greeted with an opportunity to peel away the layers of mystery surrounding Sesshomaru and his family.
1. Optique

**Optique**

by: Amber Michelle

_Originally posted to the Live Journal community Ebony Silks on January 18, 2008._

_This was my first Inu Yasha fic. It was intended to be a one-shot, but "Optique" is now a series, or a multi-chapter epic – whichever you prefer. It will be updated whenever I get around to writing more._

...

The palace looked like something out of a Chinese period movie, Kagome thought, like it belonged in a novel instead of some out-of-the-way place in Japan's history. She wasn't conscious when they arrived, so issues like how they got there, and why she saw nothing but a sea of clouds and treetops when she scrounged up the courage to look outside and across the courtyard, remained unanswered, as did most of her questions. Shippo was the only one awake to talk to her the first day, and his explanation wasn't the best:

"You can't see outside 'cause there's a barrier." He stuffed a rice ball into his mouth and his cheeks puffed out. "Bet it'll keep Naraku out."

"Yeah, but it keeps us in." Kagome chewed her lower lip. It was sore from all the abuse it'd gotten since she woke up. "How did we get here?"

The kit shrugged. "Sesshomaru. And some female." He reached for another treat, chewing unconcernedly.

_A female_? That was news. The only 'female' she'd ever seen him speak to was Rin; he didn't even bother to speak to Kagome herself unless she was in his way. "Who?" she couldn't help asking.

But the kit didn't know much more, and Miroku was still unconscious. Inu Yasha's only response to their location was a string of curses.

"Maybe you shouldn't have told him," Sango said when it was her turn, sitting up with some help to drink tea.

Kagome sighed. "I thought he might know something about this place. Have you seen anybody since we got here? A healer, anyone?"

The slayer shook her head, brow furrowed with uncertainty. "Maybe we should look for him. We can't just sit here."

That wouldn't do, of course - Sango needed rest, so the burden fell on Kagome in spite of her friend's insistence that she was fine. She wouldn't have minded, if the hospitality was a little more personal. There had to be guards somewhere, or servants - the place was spotless, and she couldn't picture Sesshomaru on his hands and knees doing something as mundane as scrubbing the floors or sweeping the steps.

When she got over the dread of questioning the Western Lord and felt confident her legs wouldn't give out if she did a little exploring, Kagome left the pavilion. Maybe she hadn't seen a single person besides her friends in the two days they'd stayed, but Inu Yasha and the others were bandaged and seemed well-taken care of. Food appeared and disappeared of its own accord, and her uniform, torn and bloodied beyond repair, had been replaced before she woke up with snowy _hitoe_ and _nagabakama_ the color of dried blood. The outer layers were made of such thin, delicate silk she was afraid to let them drag on the floor.

It only took a minute to orient herself. The palace was straight out of a textbook, down to the latticed doors and the covered walkways between where they were staying and the central chambers. She ran her fingers over carvings of chrysanthemums and lotus blossoms, padding down the corridor with careful, whispering steps so she wouldn't trip on her hakama. Light peeked through the bamboo screens, mottled with a swaying pattern of leaves. She couldn't see through them to the garden, but water flowed somewhere nearby, and she could smell astringent pine and freshly-turned earth when the breeze drifted through the slats.

At first the atmosphere seemed completely opposed to what she knew of its owner. The house was quiet except for the sounds in the garden. The floor was polished to a fine sheen, the boards fitted together so neatly it looked like one, unbroken piece; there was no splinter out of place on the screens. No tears in the opaque paper shoji, no uneven beams up above. Perfect. She pictured his placid exterior, the way the wind sifted through his hair, how pristine his person was even after a messy battle - and it fit.

She should have been jealous - Inu Yasha was, Kagome was positive. Instead, she only wanted to see the demon lord in his natural habitat. Maybe the pieces would fit if they were placed together for her to examine.

It was when she rounded the southern corner of the _shinden_ that Kagome thought she heard voices. The screens were raised farther down the hall to let the light in, and there was a break in the shoji where the hall opened up into another room.

"This is not a permanent arrangement, mother."

Kagome shuffled to a stop and leaned against the wall. _Well, I found him_. With his mother, even. Funny, she'd thought the woman had died or something, since Inu Yasha's mother had come into the picture.

"I want the half-breed removed." His mother's voice was a frigid alto. "Don't think you'll appease me by keeping him out of the way. As long as I'm alive my decree stands."

Something suspiciously like a sigh reached Kagome's ears. "Mother--"

"No."

"_Yes_." If she hadn't known better, she would've thought he sounded exasperated. "He stays until his companions are battle-worthy again. This is not up for discussion. Endure or leave."

An unfriendly silence descended. Kagome hiked the _nagabakama_ up to her ankles so she could approach quietly. The wind sent dried maple leaves skittering in from the veranda.

"So I've been cursed with an ungrateful son as well as your father's bastard child." She peeked into the room and immediately pulled back when his mother rose and spun to leave, silver hair fanning out and shimmering. "You have terrible taste in allies, Sesshomaru."

The woman spared Kagome only a glance as she swept out. She stood frozen, fingers still hooked onto the wooden screen, watching his mother's retreating back until she disappeared down another corridor. There was no doubt as to their relation; Sesshomaru took after her strongly. Even frowning she was beautiful.

Kagome took a deep breath before giving up her hiding place and padding around the screen. They must have known she was there, so there was no point in trying to hide. He was seated behind a lacquered desk, back straight, armor replaced by a haori with a familiar sakura pattern, red fading into white. Butterflies were stitched onto the fluttering length of the sleeves, echoing the design on his mother's clothing.

"Is there something you need, Priestess?" He didn't look up from his scroll.

She bit down on her lip again. Now that she'd found him, her brain refused to cooperate. _I wanted to make sure you didn't desert us_. Yeah, that would go over well. _Why did you bring us here_? would sound ungrateful. She wanted to ask about what she overheard, but it didn't take a genius to know that wasn't a good idea.

"I... wanted to thank you for taking care of my friends," Kagome finally said, when she was sure the silence had lasted too long. "They're getting better. Sango is awake, and so is Inu Yasha, and I'm sure Miroku will come around..." She caught him looking at her through his fringe, writing brush poised over parchment, and blushed. "Um."

If he were just a _little_ bit more social, this would be so much easier. They could talk about what a nice morning it was, what a beautiful home he had, and maybe get around to the issue of his invisible servants, and why he thought of bringing them here in the first place. Instead the words stuck in her throat, and Kagome had to avert her gaze before her face got any hotter. Sesshomaru's idea of social grace didn't seem to include much more than staring, and probably curt, one-word responses.

His brush clinked onto its ceramic rest. "I see."

Two words! Maybe she shouldn't have come in. Now she was forcing him to pay attention to her, and Kagome remembered how much she didn't want that, ever. She felt like a butterfly pinned under glass; he was eyeing her and the purple layers spilling over her hands and pooling at her feet, maybe even thinking he'd wasted the costume on someone like her. He looked at humans the way people dissected insects. He'd probably bisected a few in his time, as a matter of--

_No, bad thought! Ewwww_. She jerked her eyes away again and bit down too hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to keep her face from showing it. There had to be something else to think about - like that screen dividing his study area from the rest of the room.

"Is that... Eitoku?" She left her spot before his desk and knelt in front of the screen, brushing a cherry blossom in gold leaf with her finger. Her grandfather liked the Kano school; this looked like the prints tacked to his wall. She wracked her brain for more information, and couldn't come up with much. "I thought his work was all destroyed."

"Why would it all be destroyed?" Sesshomaru asked.

Kagome looked back and jumped to find him standing behind her. "Uh--" With his head tilted like that he actually looked curious. She blinked up at him. "War."

He looked at the screen, and then back at her, for what felt like a long time. Kagome wished she could hear what he was thinking. His eyes were hooded, the gold irises glinting when the light shifted with the wind. "Shuban."

"What?"

"The artist. My father commissioned this screen when I was a child."

"Oh." That had to be the most revealing thing he'd ever said to her. How long ago would that be - Muromachi, Heian? She had no idea how old he was. "I guess art history isn't my strong point."

There was that stare again, and the curious cant to his head. He did look a little like a puppy when he did that.

Kagome covered her mouth with her hands, glad for the huge sleeves that hid her smile, because she couldn't make it go away. _Bad thought_.

He lofted a silver eyebrow and pivoted on his heel. "Come."

She shot up and almost tripped on her hakama. He waited by the screen until she righted herself, and then walked out, following the same path she'd watched his mother take. Kagome huffed and followed. Whoever came up with the idea of long, trailing pants deserved her fist through his teeth.

Wisteria vines spilled over the eaves, just beginning to bloom. Sesshomaru walked slowly down the veranda so she could keep up, and she used the opportunity to peer between the leaves to spot the maples, and beyond them a group of cherry trees in full bloom. A little, artificial stream snaked between the trees, under a bridge, and in the back, blocked by long grasses, she thought more water glittered.

She'd expected a Zen garden, and what she got was straight out of the Tale of Genji. Was this his idea, or his mother's?

"In here," the demon lord said, sliding a shoji panel open. He followed her in and went about opening other doors to let the sunlight in.

Kagome looked around, lips parting in wonder. The silk wall screens were painted with various scenes in monochrome - a storm of butterflies on one side, a simple mountain scene on the other. On a low table, backed by curtain stands, were ink prints of scenes it took her a minute to realize she knew. "That's Rome," she said, dropping ungracefully onto her knees in front of the table. "This too." She tapped the second, a print of the coliseum. "Where did these come from?"

Sesshomaru dropped soundlessly into seiza beside her. "My mother brought them from the mainland." He took the coliseum print, mindful of his claws, and offered it to her. "So you do know what they are."

"Of course." She took the parchment. "I've never been there, but I've seen pictures. My friend brought tons of them back from her vacation. What are these? I haven't seen anything like this in Japan." _Not this Japan, anyway_, she amended silently. Western art was everywhere in the future, but it must be completely new to the people of this era.

"Copper etchings," he said, tasting the phrase carefully and seeming to find it lacking.

"Wow." Kagome placed the print back on the table reverently. "Did she bring anything else back? Like a painting? Or a paradise box?"

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Paradise box?"

"Yeah, it's like a peeping box - you look inside and see a three-dimensional picture. But I don't know when those came around..." Kagome tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"A 'peeping box,'" he repeated, eyebrow tilting again. He seemed to taste that phrase too, his composure breaking just enough for his eyes to narrow in thought. "That sounds rather vulgar."

Kagome giggled and clapped her hands over her mouth. _Bad Kagome, don't laugh at the demon lord!_ - but another round of giggles bubbled up. He looked so confused, when she snuck a glance at him from the corner of her eye, that she almost felt bad. She shook her head rapidly when he met her eyes, hair flying.

"Hn," was the only response he graced her with, but the soft shadows and the gleam in his eyes showed he was almost smiling.


	2. The MoonViewing Room

**The Moon-Viewing Room**  
By Amber Michelle

_Originally posted to the Ebony Silks community on February 26, 2008._

...

When he kissed her the first time, Kagome didn't try to stop him. She berated herself for it later, for not saying something or at the very least delivering a discouraging blow with her purification energy. It was unlikely anything she did would hurt the demon lord, but even he would acknowledge such a clear signal and back off.

But it didn't happen that way. Her guilt was eclipsed by another, simpler mystery that she couldn't answer with a few brutal moments of self-honesty: why?

It started, she mused, that day in the treasury.

Rome. She'd said something about Rome, and caught in her peripheral vision his eyes widening minutely, his eyebrows rising in interest. Maybe he didn't feel the need to keep up his image here, safe within the walls of the Western estate. His face betrayed surprise, his voice irritation, even his body language was sharper. He would order Jaken to fetch something, and his hand would whip to the side, pointing, to send the imp scurrying away. He would snap an order to a hidden servant, and what he desired would be placed within reach by invisible hands.

An invitation would be extended, sunset limning his white hair in pale golds and pinks, his head tilted toward the moon-viewing pavilion while his gaze remained on hers. Kagome covered her mouth with her hand, something she'd never done before the demon lord started asking her things and making her cheeks heat, and his eyes would follow the fluttering of her sleeve, and trace the path back up to her face.

It was a quiet place, the moon-viewing chamber, not really a room so much as a balcony, or a covered platform extending into the lake. The water lapped gently at the wooden supports, broken sometimes by fallen blossoms or leaves, and beneath the surface were goldfish, streaks of yellow and orange and sometimes even white, darting away from her shadow when she leaned over the rail. Lotus plants clustered to the right of the entrance, not quite blooming. The expanse of the garden greeted her on the other side, and Kagome decided after that first night it would be the perfect place to study.

Entrance exams were coming up. Her shoulders knotted up every time her brain reminded her. The uniform might've been a lost cause, but some supernatural force - from hell, if anybody asked her - had preserved her backpack and some of its contents. She had pajamas, some pocky, a supply of underwear that was dwindling rapidly, and her math, science, and history textbooks.

_Joy_, she grumbled to herself, pulling the science book out after a light afternoon meal. They hadn't seen much besides rice and vegetables, but it was a nice change from cold, packed lunches that had been squished at the bottom of her bag.

"When are these tests of yours, Kagome?" She turned to see Sango watching her from the futon, brows knit. "We've been here for a week. Maybe we should ask Sesshomaru to take you back to the well."

"Oh, not for another few weeks." Kagome waved her concern away with a smile. It turned into a wince. "As long as I study, I can make up for not showing up as long as I get good grades." _In theory_.

"So that's what you've been disappearing to do - study?"

"Um-- yeah." Kagome felt her face heating up and hunched her shoulders. "It's really nice out there, and... I mean, he told me where I can go without bothering anybody." She looked up, and caught Sango staring at the wall separating their sleeping space from the one shared by Miroku, Shippo, and Inu Yasha. The slayer shifted her gaze to Kagome, lifting her eyebrows, and the priestess squirmed. "He's asleep."

Sango _hmmmmed_, her face pale against the dark backdrop of the wall, lit by the morning sunshine. She was watching from the corner of her eye, the gesture so reminiscent of the demon lord that Kagome took refuge in stuffing her things back into her backpack and avoiding her gaze.

"If you want a change of scenery, I could--"

"No." Sango smiled and shook her head when Kagome's head snapped up. But her smile faded. "Who is out there besides Sesshomaru and his mother, Kagome?" The slayer's eyes went back to staring out beneath the blinds. Her fingers worked the edge of the quilt covering her knees, twisting the silk into deep creases and wrinkles of green. When she received no answer, she started to lie down again. "I'm sure Inu Yasha is well enough to get up and go with you."

Kagome crawled over to help Sango straighten her leg and lie back. He might be better, but she would never get anything done if he came with her. And would he sit still while she talked to his brother? Of course not. They'd be hurling insults within a minute of meeting.

Sesshomaru could be coaxed into uttering more than three words with the right questions. After weeks of a tentative alliance, and years before that of watching him fight Inu Yasha, she finally found the key to pulling the outer layers of his mask away to look deeper. There was no reason to toss it away so soon.

"You know he'd just get agitated," Kagome finally said. It sounded like an excuse even to her own ears. She frowned and stood up, book tucked under her arm. "I'll talk to him."

She waited for her friend's nod, and then ducked under the open shutter. The courtyard was so bright she was momentarily blinded, and she felt her way along the screens until she found the latch to the next room. Paper _go-hei_ charms were suspended above the frame, and a spell was painted on the wood in something that looked like dried blood. Her fingers tingled when she opened the door.

"Tch, about time."

Kagome slid the door closed. "Nice to see you too, Inu Yasha. Are you feeling better?"

The room was identical to the area she shared with Sango: a perfect square at least twenty steps to a side, the floor a polished, dark wood, and the wall facing the courtyard was the same old-fashioned shutters, all locked down except for the door. His haori and undershirt were draped on a stand against the wall, Miroku's beside them.

Inu Yasha was slouched on his futon in the corner farthest from the door, bare-chested and wrapped in wide hemp bandages. His eyes lingered on the door behind her, gold eyes catching the bit of light from the screen and seeming brighter than the rest of him. "Miroku woke up last night," he said, gaze flicking up before it moved to the monk. "They left something for him."

She crossed the room to Miroku's pallet and knelt, lifting the bowl left on the floor above his head. The liquid smelled sharp and bitter, like a lemon only ten times worse, and Kagome wrinkled her nose. "Miroku." Kagome set the bowl down and gripped his uninjured shoulder. "Miroku, can you hear me?"

He didn't respond, and a lump formed in her throat that she couldn't swallow. She called his name again, risked shaking him once as gently as she could, and was rewarded with a groan and a fluttering of his eyelids. He didn't stir again, and Kagome sighed. Later then.

"So?" She settled back on her knees and turned her attention to Inu Yasha. "Are you ready to talk?"

"I"m ready to get the fuck out of here."

She frowned when he wouldn't look at her. "We're lucky to have a place to rest that Naraku can't reach."

He scowled. "You think that bitch wouldn't let him in if it would get rid of us? Wouldn't get her little claws dirty that way."

"No," Kagome said softly. She folded her arms across her chest as much as her layers would allow, shoving her hands inside her sleeves the way he did when he was angry. Green crashed into pink and red, and she thought of the garden outside. The charms fluttered in a stiff breeze, their shadows dancing on the screen, and suddenly her chest burned for a breath of fresh air and the warmth of the sunlight to soothe the chill creeping along her arms.

He tried to get up, ears flicking, and then hunched over and cursed. Kagome hurried over to help him straighten his back and feel along his ribs. She tried to ignore the creak of his teeth gritting when she pressed her fingers into his side. The last two still gave too much.

She tried to glare at him. "You shouldn't be up."

His eyes narrowed with more heat and she saw his nostrils flare, heard him scent her with a long pull of breath. "You shouldn't be wandering around the damned house."

Kagome scooted back to grab her book and scrambled to her feet. "What do you expect me to do? The light is horrible in that little room. I have exams to study for!"

"Huh. So you're _studying_." He crossed his arms and turned his nose up at her, mirroring her earlier gesture. "Whatever."

Kagome's spine stiffened and she lifted her chin. "Why is that so-- so--" She stomped her foot, making an inarticulate noise, and yanked the door open. "I'll be back later. Be a good puppy and _stay_!" She slammed the door shut and stalked away from the pavilion, across the courtyard, and into the shade of the next building.

She wanted to throw her hands up and scream. Sure, their situation was less than ideal for him - it wasn't really ideal for anybody, but they were safe, fed, had a roof over their heads, and an able physician to care for Miroku. She couldn't even remember what happened to him; only Inu Yasha hurtling toward her, maybe under his own power, maybe not, and she hadn't even gotten one arrow off before everything blurred.

What did he want from her? She couldn't sit still. The tea Sango drank put her to sleep, Miroku was only barely showing signs of improvement, and even Inu Yasha, thank all the gods, spent most of his time resting.

Her eyes prickled uncomfortably. She wanted everyone to get better, but if she sat and thought about it too long it would drive her insane. This wasn't like Kaede's village; there weren't tasks waiting to be done that she could occupy herself with. For once, the only thing left to do was homework, and she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Her feet led her unerringly to the garden, and Kagome felt her shoulders loosen up a little. A breeze danced through the maple branches and brushed her cheeks. Out past the second bridge flashes of orange peeked at her through the gaps in the trees, and the sound of the children laughing joined the splash of the stream.

Maybe she would ask what happened later. She hadn't thought to, didn't really want to, in fact; the knot in her stomach tightened at the thought. In hindsight she knew a trap when she saw one, knew she'd tripped the proverbial wire when she passed that seal stone and ignored the warning shiver, and the cowardly part of Kagome wanted to avoid speaking of it as long as possible.

_I'm just as stupid_, she thought, watching Rin tackle Shippo into a pile of fallen leaves.

There were blessings to being stuck here. They laughed again. Kagome tried to smile with them.

...

* * *

...

The sun was just starting to descend from its noon high when Kagome took up residence in her new study spot, calmer after some time watching Rin and Shippo play with Kirara, and she estimated it was two or three. Her watch was gone, probably having met the same fate as her uniform, and she couldn't find any sundials or water clocks, or anything resembling a time piece. She was learning to gauge the time of day by the lengthening shadows and the imperceptible shift in the flowers from open to closing. Kagome sat facing the lotus pads, stretching out on her stomach in front of the curtain stand to read. The bulky kimono cushioned her from the hard wood floor.

She spent at least two hours reviewing the chapters outlined in Yuka's notes. Genetics, DNA strands, the composition of amino acids - it was all mashed together in her brain, making less sense there than it did on the page. What, exactly, was the point of knowing this?

Kagome propped her chin on her hand and stared at the shifting canopy of cherry blossoms above the shore of the lake, peering through the gaps in the rail. Tiny brown youkai with knobby joints sifted through the moss, feeding on fallen leaves and petals, scraping loose bits of bark from the tree trunks. From her vantage point they looked hardly bigger than her cat.

_If they allow themselves to be seen_, Sesshomaru had told her the night before, _they are not doing their job_.

_I understand your reasoning_, she'd said, _but it's creepy when things appear out of thin air. I want to see who's serving me and what they're doing to my stuff_.

The severe press of his lips, flat and white, was all that warned her of his irritation. Had she been rude? Was he offended, thinking she didn't trust him? And yet, there they were - whatever they were, and the servants bringing food and medicine were no longer hidden from her. From Sango's lack of reaction, Kagome guessed she was the only exception. Too bad. There was nobody to ask about what they were called - nobody she felt comfortable asking.

Kagome went back to her review questions, muttering about tight-lipped dog demons and what they could do with their stupid pride. She only gave up when her back started to feel stiff, rolling onto her back to stretch and let loose a jaw-breaking yawn. The blue sky had congealed into slate-gray rain clouds, and the water beneath the pavilion had stilled. She sat up to lean over the railing and look at her reflection, almost perfect except for minute shifts on the surface. Pale face, hair combed straight, layers in red and green.

"No moon tonight," Kagome murmured to herself, watching the lips of her postcard-perfect image move. There was a twinge in her chest. She reached down and watched her reflection distort and shatter when her finger touched the surface. Something nibbled at her nail, and she made her lips turn up at the flashes of gold that whipped to the surface and swam away like little bolts of orange lightning.

The ripple of the water turned silver behind her own blurred reflection, and a deep voice asked, "This is how you study?"

Kagome jumped and whipped around, pressing against the rail instinctively. Sesshomaru. She shuddered, and her muscles loosened like noodles. "Why don't you make any noise when you walk?" she asked, clutching her textbook to her chest. "It's not fair."

The demon lord knelt gracefully beside her, heavy silk sleeves pooling on the floor, draping over the railing, and leaned close enough that she felt the tickle of his breath on her ear, "I am a predator, priestess." Her eyes widened. "You should be more aware of your surroundings." His claws grazed her knuckles and snatched the book from her hands.

"Hey!"

Sesshomaru settled beside her and opened it to the table of contents. His eyes roved over the pages and froze at the bottom. "Kodousha-- print. Heisei eleven?" Both brows lifted, and Kagome winced. "2000?" She dove for the book and he jerked it out of her reach. "What is this?"

She sighed sharply and reached for it again, only to be denied. "Publication data."

His eyes narrowed to sharp slashes of gold. "I have heard of printing presses. This Kodousha is one of them?"

"Yes."

"And 'Heisei'?" he asked. "I was under the impression the current human reign was called 'Eiroku.'"

Kagome snorted and rocked back on her heels. "I have no idea what the emperor is calling himself."

"Hnnn..." He drew the sound out, opening the book again and fanning the pages. He settled somewhere in the middle and held it up to the light to read.

"You're talkative tonight," she said sourly, hugging her knees to her chest as much as five layers of robes would allow. His gaze rested on her a moment, and then she was ignored in favor of the book.

Her lip puffed out. _Stupid dogs have no sense of delicacy_.

Kagome sighed again and turned back to the lake, arranging herself more gracefully. The gardener youkai were gone and the surface of the water had stilled again to mirror smoothness. If she stared long enough, even her human eyes could pick apart one petal from another in the reflection. She watched the clouds shift and drift ponderously to the east, coaxed by the cooling wind. The moisture was almost palpable; soon the wind would pick up and the rain fall.

Her poor umbrella. What happened to it? Had it disappeared with their ramen supply and her change of clothes - which she assumed were scattered when she was hit - or had she lost it beforehand? She didn't want to ruin her silk robes by running through the rain. They didn't belong to her, and were too expensive to replace.

Sesshomaru lowered the book. "Tonight is the new moon."

Kagome's eyes widened and she pressed her hands to her stomach, trembling with the effort of holding still instead of turning to look in the direction of the guest pavilion. _No wonder Inu Yasha was in such a bad mood_.

"The room has been warded against intruders as a precaution."

She nodded, the motion jerky, because he seemed to expect a response. 'Thank you' would have been the polite thing to say, but instead she blurted out the question that pounded against the inside of her skull from the moment he mentioned it: _you knew_?

Of course, he would not be much of a warrior if he did not observe his enemy. He didn't answer.

"You should have done so already," he said instead.

Her hands clenched into fists. "I don't know how."

"Learn."

"Easy for you to say!" Her vision blurred at the edges, eyes hot and prickling. She tried not to blink. "You have all the time in the world. We might defeat Naraku tomorrow, and mine will be over."

He closed the book, and his attention settled onto her shoulders again. "You are human," he said, as if that explained everything.

"That isn't what I meant." Kagome bowed her head. "Never mind."

Sesshomaru curled a finger under her chin to tilt it up and to the side, pressing with his thumb to keep her from pulling free. His claws had a muted gleam in the soft light, like pearl, and looked deceptively smooth up close. She blinked rapidly and felt tears roll over her cheeks. He brushed them away with the pad of his thumb.

"Why do you cry?" he asked, tilting his head as if to examine her from a different angle.

She dabbed them away with her sleeve and lifted her chin out of his grasp, turning away to use the rail as leverage to fumble to her feet. She hadn't meant what came out - her thoughts had been on the many reasons she didn't know what to do with her power: they had to gather as many shards as possible to keep them away from Naraku, they didn't have time to sit in one place for years while she studied, went to school, took tests.

Kagome backed away, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. I should really get back now. I'm sorry." Bowing, she turned and fled around the curtain stand, but he pursued her, halting her flight when he held the textbook out as an offering. She searched his face for some hint to his thoughts.

He captured her hand when she reached for it, turned it over, fingers long and curling around her wrists. She felt like a child in comparison, a porcelain doll he was holding gently, afraid she would shatter. Sesshomaru splayed her fingers with his thumb.

"What?" she asked warily. Her fingers twitched. This was the first time he'd initiated unnecessary contact; not at any moment, even when trying to kill her, had Sesshomaru so much as twitched a hair on her head that Kagome could recall. "Sesshomaru." His claws pricked her skin but he did not respond. They traced over her veins, sending a tremor from her fingertips to her toes, and she asked, suddenly hoarse, "What are you doing?"

"So easy to break." He bent her fingers back far enough to strain the muscle in her arm, but there was no pain. His lashes lifted. "You. Rin."

She swallowed, throat parched, and winced when it sounded loudly in her ears. This was the first time she'd been subject to his unblinking stare this close, and though she wanted to look away, he would see something in that - youkai, animals, they read into body language in a way humans had forsaken long ago. There was no way she'd let him think he had the better of her. Kagome would not submit. She wasn't a dog, or a child, or a woman of the Warring States era. Where she came from, women gave as good as they got when men tried to intimidate them.

And yet, when she tried to pull her hand back, his fingers tightened around her wrist, claws strong as steel, and drew her forward. He bent his head to look down at her. "Do you feel fragile, priestess?"

Her hand was imprisoned in the fluff spilling over his shoulder. Kagome craned her neck back to meet Sesshomaru's carefully hooded stare and she felt, pressed up against his chest, the subtle vibration of his heartbeat. She locked her knees to keep from wobbling, and thought she'd break into a hundred pieces if they buckled.

Hardening her voice, she gritted out, "I'm _not_ fragile."

His grip tightened painfully and she gasped. "Good."

Kagome's eyes couldn't widen any farther. "S-Se--" His lips silenced her, and the insistent press of his fangs parted hers. Her eyes lidded, closed, and she tasted rain, mixed with the bitterness of her tears.

...


	3. A Second Frozen in Time

**A Second Frozen in Time**  
By: Amber Michelle

_Originally posted to the Ebony Silks community on March 29, 2008._

...

The western estate was something like a fairy tale, Kagome had come to think over the weeks. Tranquil, overflowing with cherry blossoms, green, and gentle winds. Motionless, as if the house was holding its breath while the world outside plodded forward. She had no idea what day it was. Some time in the third week, going on the forth. Sango's leg was much better - Kagome could feel the bone had knitted, and it was only a matter of time before it would be sturdy enough that they could begin training her back into shape.

Miroku wasn't getting worse. He also wasn't getting better.

The monk's health became Kagome's motivation to act. Sango sat in the other room almost every day now that she could stay awake - Inu Yasha didn't even complain about having to carry her back and forth. The slayer would stroke Miroku's hair from his forehead when she thought nobody was looking, and insisted on helping him eat, when he was able. Kagome could do nothing but wish she could heal with the excess power everyone told her she had, but in the end it was as useless as praying or chanting sutras.

She woke up to a dull burning in her lower back on day twenty-something and stared up at the ceiling beams until the futon felt hard no matter which way she shifted.

"This sucks," she announced. Across the room she heard Sango laugh. Kagome grinned. "How're you doing? Do you need anything?"

The slayer sat up with a groan. "Some of that ty-re-nol."

"I wish..." Kagome sighed and pulled her bag over. The air was still cold, so it couldn't be late; the light had the bluish quality of morning sunshine, slanting straight through the blinds near the ceiling. It was the only time of day the chamber could be called bright. She pulled her textbooks out, her dirty clothing, and empty food boxes. She found the white bottle, but it didn't rattle when she shook it.

"Don't worry about it, Kagome. It isn't too bad."

"Still." She pawed through her papers, looking for pink and white wrappers. They were neon, impossible to miss. Her stomach sank when she didn't find what she was looking for. "I need to restock. It's almost--" Kagome blushed.

Sango had the grace not to turn red when she caught on. "You can probably ask for some linen--"

"No!"

"--or Inu Yasha can take you to the well."

That was a better idea. Kagome started re-packing her bag. "He'll take any excuse to get away from here, I bet." She chewed her bottom lip. "I'll ask. Go ahead and eat without me."

She was right about Inu Yasha; he agreed to take her home faster than she could get the words out of her mouth, and she was positive he had every intention of trying to haul Sango and Miroku along. The demon lord proved to be more of a challenge. He was writing when she found him in his chamber, a red ink stick as well as black gleaming wet like blood on its dish.

"It would be unwise," Sesshomaru said, staring past her to the garden, "to travel into Naraku's territory with only the half-breed as protection."

Kagome sighed. "It wouldn't be the first time."

The blue of the morning was brightening, and the demon lord's white silks drew the light into the _shinde_n, a striking contrast to the dark, carved screen on the wall. His long silver hair pooled on the floor behind him when he sat at his desk, spilling over the edge of the cushion. Crimson cherry blossoms were stitched onto his sleeves, and leaves dyed a pale, minty shade of green. His eyes flicked to her, eyebrows drawing down just enough for her to notice. "He is waiting for an opportunity like this. What do you need that I cannot provide here?"

She jerked her gaze away and settled on looking at the Shuban screen that separated his office space from the area she assumed he slept in, if he even did anything that mundane. "Medical and personal... items," she said. Heat suffused her face, spreading down her neck. Sango's suggestion might work if they had no other options, but-- Kagome could only think of how unsanitary it sounded. What if it slipped, and she stained the priceless silks he was dressing her in? What if he could smell it?

_Priestess_, he said, and she fisted her hands in her lap, refusing to look at him. What if he could already smell it? There was a hormone change before the bleeding started, right? Or was that something else?

"Kagome."

A chill prickled the skin on her arms. She made herself face forward.

"Your _needs_--" his eyebrow ticked, gaze sweeping her body in a way that made her squirm, "--can be taken care of without leaving the estate."

"No." His eyes narrowed. Kagome swallowed hard and wished the clothes he gave her weren't so heavy. The cool morning air would be such a relief. "Please, Sesshomaru. There are things I can get from home that even you can't provide."

He didn't reply, and she let out a shaky sigh, looking down at her hands. Her statement would verge on insulting even in her own era, but it was the truth. He didn't seem like the type to appreciate convoluted reasoning, so what was she supposed to say? _Sorry, but what you consider advanced in this era is really primitive and unsanitary_? Why he should need convincing when he - or at least his mother - was eager to get rid of Inu Yasha was beyond her.

"Please." Kagome leaned forward, bending her neck. She wouldn't grovel. This was perfectly respectful in her own time, and it was more than she ever offered Sesshomaru otherwise. "Miroku isn't getting better. Whatever remedy your physician is giving him hasn't taken care of the poison. This isn't a frivolous request." The touch of a breeze, the first of the morning to sneak past the screens, prickled the back of her neck. "I'll make sure he brings me right back."

The papers he was holding rasped; she saw them deposited on the desk at the corner of her vision. Then he got up and her stomach clenched when she thought he was walking away and ignoring her. _Of all the nerve_, she thought, sucking in a sharp breath to say something. But his boots stopped in front of her. She lifted her head, and he sat down, his hair and silk and fur curling onto the floor in waves of white. He always looked bigger than he really was; the fur made him look massive, and his clothes added bulk, but his body had felt slender underneath the soft outside layers.

Kagome's blush returned full force, and she decided the blossom pattern on his sleeves was safer to stare at.

"The monk isn't poisoned."

_What_? She couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, and simply blinked rapidly. Impossible. His symptoms were right, and Inu Yasha and Sango agreed they had seen him draw some odd youkai into his wind tunnel. "But he doesn't need to be injured the normal way--"

"His body would react, regardless," Sesshomaru said. "There are no such signs about his person."

Rather than settling, her stomach twisted into a knot, and Kagome tasted a bitter tang in her throat. "Then what's wrong with him?"

He didn't say anything. How would he know, anyway? He wasn't a doctor.

"Even if you're right," she said, "I have to make the effort anyway."

_Come_, he said, and offered his hand, helping her to stand up when he rose. He didn't say why or where. When they rounded the corner of the _shinden_ he spoke to a servant and sent it scurrying toward the part of the estate she usually avoided, but he didn't utter a word more until they crossed the courtyard. "Try to control the half-breed," he said.

Kagome frowned. "Why--"

The screen to the boys' room snapped open and Inu Yasha glared at them from the shadow of the room, claws biting into the wooden frame. "What do _you_ want?"

Sesshomaru stopped at the foot of the steps. When he simply stared at his younger brother without saying anything, Kagome rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs. The effect was ruined by the way her hakama dragged. "Do you want to help Miroku or not?" She grabbed his ear when she reached the top and said more softly, _don't make me say it_. Inu Yasha growled, but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or his brother, who ascended behind her. "Come on."

He slapped her hand away and stalked inside. "Like he can do anything."

"We can _try_, can't we?" She followed him in and knelt at Miroku's side to wake him. His forehead was cooler than the night before, but still too warm and dry. He blinked rapidly when he opened his eyes, squinting, and Kagome maneuvered her body to block the light from the blinds. "Leave if you can't be nice - get Sango, she'll want to be in here."

"I'm not gonna--" Whatever he was going to say was choked off with a strangled growl, and she heard Tessaiga pop from its sheath, though he didn't draw. "_You_."

Kagome twisted around. Inu Yasha's eyes were narrowed to slits, and his fangs bared, his grip on the sword white-knuckled. She followed his gaze to the door and her heart stuttered, even though she had suspected this was what his brother had in mind.

"Half-breed." Sesshomaru's mother was framed in the doorway, her perfect pink lips twisted. She brushed past her son. Her silver hair drifted along behind her as if weightless, and her fingers stroked the fur gathered around her shoulders. Her robes shimmered, pale green with maple leaves climbing the seams, rippling as if shuffled by the wind when she walked. "Calm yourself. I wouldn't have treated your friends if I meant to see them dead." Her gaze shifted to the monk, and she walked around his feet to sit on his other side. "Well? What ails you this time?"

Miroku's eyes, though still hazed with sleep, watched her sit, and followed the motion of her hands before they moved up to her face. Kagome scooted over and pulled his head into her lap. He winced, but relaxed against her legs. Sesshomaru's mother got the same description the rest of them had: _blood on fire_. Though he didn't elaborate beyond that, the Lady's eyebrows contracted immediately.

"This is the first time his fever has dropped in four days," Kagome said, reaching behind her for the bottle of water she kept at the bedside. Inu Yasha stood behind her. She could feel the tension in his frame, how still he was, and would have bet he was still clutching Tessaiga for all he was worth. "Before that..."

The Lady nodded and brushed Kagome's hands away to examine him. Eyes, mouth, ears, pulse - it reminded her of check-ups back home, without the equipment she was used to. Did a demon's enhanced abilities make stethoscopes and magnifying lenses unnecessary? Could they hear a person's pulse? They could smell illness - or maybe the effect of it, the sweating and traces of sickness on the breath?

She watched the Lady take Miroku's cursed hand and press her fingers to his pulse. Her eyes closed tightly, expression blank, and Kagome felt a tingle of power wash over her skin and raise the hairs on her arms. The muscles in Miroku's arm knotted and his fingers curled, knuckles cracking loudly.

"You do know how to find trouble," she said. His hand relaxed. The Lady folded his arm across his middle and straightened. "Kill the onmyouji," she said.

"Onmyouji?" Kagome looked down at Miroku.

"Shrine keeper," he said, moistening his lips. She helped him sip from the water bottle. "I might've... swallowed one of his servants."

"That would indeed be a problem," the Lady said. She rose to her feet and left, silk robes whispering over the floor. Kagome lifted her eyes to Sesshomaru, who turned to the door and then paused.

"I will escort the priestess to her home," he said.

"Hell no," Inu Yasha said. "I'm not letting you take Kagome. She comes with me."

Sesshomaru sighed, and Kagome had the distinct impression he meant to roll his eyes. "You cannot handle this enemy with your friends at full capacity, yet you intend to face him with only the priestess at your side?"

"What the hell does it matter to--" Inu Yasha drew back. "What?"

"Use your brain, half-breed." The sneer that curled his lips made his resemblance to his mother even more striking. "The onmyouji needs to die." He lifted a brow. "You are in no position to challenge him yourself."

"Kagome--"

"Will not be in danger," Sesshomaru said.

Inu Yasha slammed Tessaiga back into its sheath. "Fuck that! You're not in this to help my friends. You just want to get Kagome alone and..."

"And?"

Kagome heard the snap of Inu Yasha's knuckles when he clenched his fist and shook her head. She helped Miroku back onto his futon and muttered an apology that he answered with a faint smile before his eyelids drooped. "Inu Yasha," she said quietly.

He didn't answer. When she stood up, he was still glaring at his brother. "You're not taking her anywhere."

"You deny your responsibility to the others?"

Kagome grabbed her friend's arm. "Shut up, both of you." She glared at Sesshomaru and tugged Inu Yasha toward the door. "Miroku needs rest! Argue outside."

He pulled free with a curse, but did as she asked and stalked out to the railing. She was afraid to look back at his brother.

"Prepare yourself for travel, priestess," Sesshomaru said. He passed them and started down the stairs. "We leave at dusk."

Inu Yasha punched the railing. "What did I just tell you, bastard?"

Kagome sighed and said the word. The rosary pulled him face-first into the stairs.

Maybe it wasn't fair, but she knew Sesshomaru wouldn't stick around to pursue the argument if Inu Yasha stopped pressing his buttons. Really, even she could see the fastest way to gain his opposition was to contradict him, and she tried not to do it that often. Not when they were under his roof, at least. He was providing generously for everyone. He deserved some respect.

Besides, she thought, leaving Inu Yasha to fume so she could pack for her trip - there was that old saying about catching more flies with honey than vinegar. TV dramas made the women of this era look petty and manipulative, and she'd always hated them. But when she looked at it from her perspective in the here and now, in her own situation, the best way to get what she wanted was to work within the system. If bowing to Sesshomaru when they met in the hallway meant they could have a civil conversation, why not just do it?

Inu Yasha would see what she just did as siding with his brother, and maybe she was, kind of. Only because what he said made sense, and she wanted to go home. If he could kill the onmyouji - if that was necessary, if it would help her atone for her mistakes by doing her part in the deed - Kagome would go. And she wouldn't complain.

...

* * *

...

"Um, Sesshomaru?" Kagome stood on her tiptoes, trying not to think about what may or may not be supporting her feet this high in the air. She clung to his back, arms around his waist so she wouldn't fall, but her hands were so frozen she couldn't feel her fingers. "It's getting really-- really cold."

They had left at dusk as promised, passing through the barrier around his mother's palace after Kagome subdued Inu Yasha. Sesshomaru refused her suggestion of riding Ah-Un for reasons of speed and stealth. The dragon couldn't match him if a retreat was necessary, the demon lord assured her.

That was just great. Kagome was left to cling to a demon lord she hardly knew, thousands of feet above the ground, and after a few hours of travel she still couldn't decide if she wished he would get off his high horse and hold onto her or not. Her arms were starting to tire, and her legs were painfully stiff. Worse, the temperature at their altitude pierced the quilted kimono he'd provided for travel, chilling the silk, her skin, and her blood.

"I can't hold on much longer," she mumbled, pressing her head into his back. It would be worse in front; Kagome thought it considerate of him to shield her, although this arrangement still had her at a serious disadvantage.

A sudden, weightless sensation that pulled her stomach first to her throat, then down to her shoes, told her that Sesshomaru was descending. His hair danced around her, and his sleeves flapped in the wind behind them, blinding Kagome to their surroundings. After a long stretch she heard the rustle of grass and the creak of tree branches, and she sighed, arms and legs going limp as soon as her feet touched solid ground. She sat hard on the grass and shuddered. At least the younger brother was warm when he carried her on his back. Sesshomaru's choice of transportation was smoother, but his armor got in the way of any shared body heat.

Three hours ago she would have blushed at that thought. Now, she only wished he'd toss the leather plates and help her warm up, propriety be damned.

"Do you know how to build a fire?" he asked, kneeling beside her in the grass.

Kagome pulled her backpack off, gritting her teeth when the motion seared her muscles. Her hands shook and fumbled with the zipper. She got it open on the third try, and hoped her matches hadn't fallen out with everything else.

She heard him sigh and found herself airborne again, cradled like a child in his arms. Ever since the night in the moon-viewing pavilion he'd avoided a repeat of the incident, yet still found ways to touch her. This wasn't the first time he'd carried her somewhere, simply the only time she'd been awake to experience it. Waking in her bed and being told most mornings that she 'stank of Sesshomaru' when she knew she'd fallen asleep on the pillows by his desk, there was only one conclusion to be drawn.

It wasn't her fault he was the only person who had a lamp bright enough to study by! She was trying to be good.

He sat at the base of a tree, and Kagome felt herself shifted from his arms to the ground. The fluff cushioned her back and radiated warmth. Fur tickled her legs, twined over them, between them, supporting her. _It can move_? She blinked at the pelt warming her legs like an electric blanket, hotter to the touch than the demon lord she huddled against.

She curled her fingers into his fur and hid her face. Rin was such a lucky girl. Kagome wondered how often she enjoyed this privilege, if at all. The night wasn't that cold, but her cocoon of warmth loosened her muscles and eased the tightness in her lower back. She took a deep breath, wondering how much of his scent was the forest and the clouds, and what was actually him.

There were no dreams to disturb her that night. She woke hours later, she wasn't sure how many, the sky still dark and prickled with stars. Kagome counted them through the branches of their tree to wake her mind up. It was time for her to move, wasn't it? But she was comfortable; his fur cushioned the ground, and she'd turned in her sleep so her head was pillowed on his arm.

Tall, yellowing grass ruffled in a gentle breeze, the tips drooping and ripe with seeds. She used to think the stalks looked like wheat until she saw the real thing. They flicked against her bag in a broken rhythm, _tap tap taptaptap taptap_ - and she felt herself drifting off again, clutching at the demon lord's hand laying heavy, even relaxed over her abdomen, as if he'd fallen asleep too. She forgot to turn and look. It was hard to remember anything when she was so-- what? Warm. Just warm - that was all she would let herself think about.

When Kagome woke up again her blanket was gone and the sky was lightening to the east. She levered herself up from the cradle of roots he'd left her in, which was at least blanketed with pine needles instead of rocks, and stumbled into the trees with her bag for her morning routine. She couldn't hear any water nearby, so she brushed her teeth and rinsed with the bottled stuff, and combed her hair down with her fingers. When her needs had been met she sat down under the same tree to wait, munching on a rice ball.

It was downright balmy after her trip in the sky with Sesshomaru. But eventually the chill crept along her body, starting at her toes - tabi socks and sandals weren't ideal cold-weather gear - and striking through her hakama with every gust of wind. Kagome was on her feet pacing as soon as she licked her fingers clean of rice. At least it would warm her up.

She was on her twenty-seventh rotation when he finally returned. "Priestess," he said as greeting.

Kagome turned on her heel. "Where--" His eyes narrowed slightly, and she snapped her mouth shut. "Um."

He tilted his head to the east, and his hair glinted with the first rays of sunlight with a radiance almost ghostly against the dark backdrop of the forest. _You always know a youkai_, she remembered Jinenji's mother telling her. _There's something otherworldly about them_. Sesshomaru walked away, and Kagome followed without asking any other questions. _He was so graceful when he moved, like the wind_, and then _still, when he met me in the forest, so still he could have been carved from the tree. No matter how the wind pulled at his hair or robe, he was a second frozen in time._

Kagome thought at the time her experience was nothing like that. Her puppy boy was anything _but_ frozen, so loud and impatient in fact that she sat him just to shut him up sometimes. They never truly bothered her, those momentary annoyances; Inu Yasha had his moments too - moments when the sun would catch in his eyes and make them glow like fire and molten gold, moments when the moonlight would strike his hair and turn it into a liquid, silvery white that reminded her--

-- of his brother.

Of Sesshomaru, whose hair flowed like a river and never caught on his armor, floating on strong gusts of wind with grace that obeyed physics above and beyond what her own body was governed by.

_Sesshomaru_.

He paused, catching her gaze over his shoulder. Kagome gasped and bit her lip. She really couldn't keep her mouth shut, it looked like.

"The well is close," he said. "A few hours distant, if we maintain this pace."

Her eyes widened. "We traveled that far?" The demon lord shrugged, and she rubbed her hands reflexively. No wonder it was so cold. She'd lost all sense of speed and time up there, above the clouds. "Okay." She smiled and adjusted her backpack, coming up even with him. "Lead the way."

Sesshomaru snorted and offered his arm, which she took after a few seconds of hesitation. She didn't need the warmth as badly this time, but she let him trap her arm against his side and splayed her fingers over his wrist. His pulse thrummed steadily and left her tingling.

There was no mistaking he was alive. In fact, it was hard to remember why she'd ever thought him icy.

When they finally parted at the well, promising to meet in the same spot in a day or so, the prospect of jumping into the time slip was more daunting than it had been since the first time she tried to leave this era and go back. She didn't jump from the edge, so much as let her knees collapse and make the choice for her.

Kagome stood at the bottom of the well in the future, and could think of nothing more than going back.

...

* * *

...

By the time her mother came home, Kagome had ransacked the medicine cabinet and the kitchen cupboards and covered the table with everything she would usually take back through the well. Ramen, hard candy for Shippo, huge, vacuum-sealed bags of beef jerky imported from America, and boxes of green tea. Rice was steaming on the counter behind her, and she'd already pulled out the molds and nori for making rice balls. Sango loved her salmon furikake, and Miroku was a huge fan of sesame - those jars were out too, shoved behind the cooker.

Pack light, he'd said. _Do not waste valuable space on frivolities_ is what actually came out of Sesshomaru's mouth when he'd gotten a look at her list. She was adding 'hot chocolate' at the bottom when he'd plucked it from her hands.

"Extravagance," he said when he scanned it.

"Well excuse me," Kagome said, snatching the list back. "But everyone needs to relax once in a while. It's not like it takes up much room." He'd lifted an eyebrow, and she knew he didn't believe her.

Well, how did people make hot chocolate in his era? Probably by boiling the cocoa beans. And all she had to do was skip home, grab a packet of hot chocolate mix, and dump it into a cup of water. If he only knew what kind of modern conveniences she had at her fingertips-- he'd still probably tell her to cut down on the crap, wouldn't he? Killjoy. If he wasn't so nice to curl up with, she'd tell him so.

What would her mother think of that? Her teenage daughter, curling up with a demon lord? Kagome didn't know what she thought of it yet.

"Kagome..." She looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway, staring at the quilted robe. "Is that silk?" she asked, fingering the sleeve. "Hand embroidered? Where did you get this? Why are you wearing it?"

"Nice to see you too, Mama." She smiled to take the sting out of the words and hugged her mother. "I can't stay long this time, but I needed more stuff." Kagome looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers together. "There was an accident-- not too bad, but..."

A tiny frown line furrowed her mother's forehead. "An accident?" She glanced at the table, and her eyes rested on the bottles of painkillers and their back-up first aid kit, packed full of gauze, disinfectant, and anti-venom. "Your first aid kit--?"

Kagome felt her face warm a little. "It kind of fell out when we were on the run... from something..."

Ms. Higurashi looked between her daughter and the mess on the table, and then sighed. They'd been at this too long; Kagome had been traveling with Inu Yasha a few years now, and come back with torn and bloodstained clothes and books too often for her mother to really be fooled. Kagome knew what that sigh meant.

But instead of lecturing, her mother cupped her face, stroking the scar above her eyebrow, and said, "Why don't you go upstairs and clean up? I'll finish here, and then we can make dinner together. How does that sound?"

A bitter lump grew in Kagome's throat. Three weeks - she hadn't even thought of home, except to make a list of supplies to pick up. She'd been here at least an hour and hadn't even taken a shower. What must she look like? She knew what she felt like, and it was dirty and slimy and needed to be scrubbed clean.

"Sure, Mama." She squeezed her mother's hand and headed for the stairs. "I won't be long."

...

* * *

...

Kagome felt naked in her skirt and sweater, and ungraceful because there was nothing to hide her clumsy missteps, or the cuts on her leg because she'd shaved too fast. She spent half an hour in the shower, and stayed upstairs to sort her laundry and fold what she would take back through the well. Mostly underwear and a new pair of pajamas, and some jeans and long-sleeved shirts for when they started traveling again. She would only take a few of each. And, of course, her English textbook, Literature, and an encyclopedia.

Her finals were only a week or two away, and then she'd be free - maybe forever. Kagome was long past the compulsory education period; if she wanted to wait on college, if she wanted to just drop out of high school, nothing was stopping her except her own ambitions. Women hardly ever got real jobs anyway. People probably expected her to get good grades, earn her honors, maybe even get a job - and then to quit, as soon as someone showed an interest in marrying her.

Sometimes the future didn't feel as modern as she made it out to be.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so long," she told her mother downstairs, cutting carrots into half-moon chunks. "I wish I could just call you, but... anyway, we ended up getting stranded really far away."

Her mother cleaved chicken thighs into tiny pieces. "Are your friends alright? You seem to be fine."

"They're fine." She outlined Sango's injury and Miroku's illness, avoiding mention of what caused them and why. "Inu Yasha's brother is taking care of us, but he lives way out near Kyoto, I think. Maybe even farther west."

"And he wants you to pack lightly?" Ms. Higurashi sprinkled the chicken with flour and moved it into the pan, sparing a smile for her daughter. "He isn't a ramen-lover like Inu Yasha?"

Kagome laughed. "Probably not. And he has to carry me back. I'm lucky he's willing to bring the pack at all."

"Be sure to thank him, Kagome."

She sobered, sweeping her carrots into their pot, and nodded. "Don't worry."

"Souta should be home soon," her mother said, looking at the clock. It was almost five - they'd have an early dinner. "Will you make a snack for him, while I finish the curry?"

"Sure." Kagome dried her hands. "What about Grandpa? Where is he, anyway? I didn't see him around when I came home."

Ms. Higurashi waved her hand at the window. "Down in Okinawa with his friends for some kind of convention. Polka, I think."

Kagome stared. "Polka." She pantomimed an accordion with her hands. "Like...?"

Her mom laughed. Kagome shook her head, and searched the fridge for something Souta would like. Her grandfather had the weirdest taste.

...

* * *

...

When it was time to go back, Kagome was packing as light as she could manage, with only the bare necessities for food and a little bit of candy for the kids because she didn't want to disappoint them. Her clothes were rolled up at the very bottom, and she went downstairs the same way she came in - her hair in a high ponytail, white _kosode_ and dark green hakama, and the quilted robe. It was plain, sky blue, and still nicer than anything she'd ever owned. She found her hiking boots at the door with her bag, and put them on over her tabi. There was no way she'd walk around in sandals if they were going to search for the onmyouji.

Her mother escorted her to the front door and told her to be careful. Kagome didn't look back until she was all the way to the well house.

She tried to wear her jeans and sweatshirt at first. They were more practical. Kagome didn't know how to shoot an arrow with huge kimono sleeves in the way, and she still wasn't completely used to shuffling around in huge pants. Sango had shown her how to tie the ends of the _nagabakama_ around her ankles so they wouldn't get in the way, but they were still big, and sometimes caught on tree branches or bushes, and they were _silk_. How could he fight in silk? Didn't it ever get ruined? Or was he just that fast?

Stupid question, she told herself. Of course Sesshomaru was that fast. Fast enough her eyes couldn't even register a blur when he moved at top speed.

She would fit right into the other era like this. It hadn't occurred to Kagome before their stay at his estate just how out of place she was in her short skirts and uniforms. Even Sango wore the clothing expected of a woman on the surface. The situation was so unreal at first, like Kagome was acting in some kind of historical play, that she'd seen no need to conform to anybody's ideals. She'd seen youkai wearing much less, in any case.

Sesshomaru had never said a word about her clothing, or given any hint he noticed a difference. He hardly seemed to notice her existence at all unless she was shooting arrows at him. Their alliance hadn't led them to talk to each other - it was the choice that came with trapping them in his home, and maybe he was obligated to let her wander, since he was offering his hospitality.

But he didn't have to seek her out every night, or carry her to her bed, or leave her a new set of robes every day. He didn't have to let her sleep on his pelt.

None of it made any sense, and she was hoping the walk to wherever they'd fought last would give her time to figure it out.

...


	4. The FivePointed Star Prelude

**The Five-Pointed Star, prelude  
By: Amber Michelle**

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_I am, in fact, planning and thinking about the next leg of the story, but I had to cancel my Netflix account, and watching the anime was the fuel I needed to write fic. Also, there's a bit more planning to be done. Sorry it's so short._

_Written for Ebony Silks theme #84: favor._

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Kagome returned to the Sengoku era a little after noon. Her boots kept catching on the drooping bottoms of the hakama tied above her ankles while she climbed to the top, making her slip on the vines; her backpack was lighter, but boxes of medicine and food made it puff out, an awkward shape that scraped the opposite wall. Sesshomaru was waiting at the edge of the clearing as he'd promised when she reached the top and flung her leg over the side, and she went so far as to open her mouth - _you could have helped, idiot_ - before she realized, really realized, who she was talking to.

Right.

Inu Yasha, she reflected when the demon lord turned and started walking without a greeting, would have helped her. Then he would have complained-- and complained.

They walked five hours before they reached a hollow in the steep hillside, surrounded by pines and junipers. He left her there to set up camp - a small fire, her blanket rolled out - and returned when stars pierced the lavender sky above the treetops. The air was chill, pine and the tang of burning wood in her nose. She watched him sit two paces to the left, the fire shining bronze on his silver hair and coloring his fur orange, watched his hand disappear into his white sleeve. The cherry blossom embroidery looked blood red in the flickering illumination.

"My mother," Sesshomaru said, the sudden sound making her stomach drop, "sent this to aid us in the coming battle."

He withdrew his hand, and Kagome drew back slightly when he extended a silver knife, handle first. It was wrapped in silk, or maybe white leather. Kanji lined up on the flat of the blade at center. The demon lord watched her unblinking, hand unmoving, until she took it, expression still even when she jumped at the jolt to her nerves and the tingle over her hand when her fingers closed around the hilt. A five-pointed star was etched into the silver butt of the handle, dark, black.

Magic? But Kagome didn't know any magic. She looked at the inscription and wondered if it was a spell. The kanji didn't make any sense. "How?"

"She did not say." When she lifted her eyes, his face was turned away and limned by firelight.

Of course not. Kagome was a priestess, and she should know these things, right? She resisted the urge to sigh and lowered the blade, rested it on her thigh. The point gleamed like a star. "Okay then."

His mother didn't have to help them. In fact, she'd been surprisingly generous. Should Kagome ask why? Should she accept another favor and move forward? Did she have a choice?

"Thank you," she said, fingertips to the blade, tingling.

"Two more days," he said, inclining his head.

Only two? Kagome bit her lip and nodded.

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End file.
